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Authors: Michael Aye

War 1812 (23 page)

BOOK: War 1812
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“What’s so funny?” McAllister asked, causing the men to laugh more.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Gesslin managed. “Just good ole American humor.”

“I see, sir. Uh, sir?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Would you mind if we fire off a musket?”

The sergeant’s comment wiped the smile off Gesslin’s face, suddenly alert to possible trickery. Seeing he’d created a touchy position for himself and his comrades, the sergeant quickly added, “It wouldn’t go down good for us, sir, if it was found out we gave up without firing a shot.”

“I see,” Gesslin replied. “Hand me your weapon, Sergeant.”

The man did as he was ordered. “It ain’t loaded, sir,” he said, handing up the weapon.

Gesslin expertly loaded and primed the weapon but left out the ball.

“Fire away, Sergeant.”

The sergeant did so and thanked Gesslin. The men seemed relax again, and the sergeant sided up to Gesslin and whispered.

“You’re certain?” Gesslin asked.

“That I am, sir.”

“Hicks,” Gesslin called again.

“Yes sir.”

“I want you to take this dispatch to Colonel Johnson.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hicks.”

“Yes sir.”

“Ride like your feet is on fire and your arse is catching.”

“Yes sir!”

Jonah watched as the rider galloped away. Gesslin then motioned to Jonah, and the two walked over to a clump of oak trees.

“That sergeant says the British have a couple of barges and a store house full of weapons not twenty miles from here at a place called McGregors Creek. He says there’s not much of a guard there to keep us from taking them. Fact is he says they’ve been ordered to destroy everything when we are spotted and retreat.”

“Why did he tell you?” Jonah asked, very suspicious of this news.

“He said he wouldn’t have if we hadn’t been so gentlemanly about the surrender. However, he feels Proctor has turned coward, and he doesn’t trust the Red Devils as he put it. He figures as soon as this war is over he can go home.”

“Do you trust him?” Jonah inquired, still suspicious.

“I’m not sure. I’d like to believe it, but I mentioned the colonel may want Captain Hampton to talk to the man before we go high-tailing it into some trap.”

Jonah winced when Gesslin said the colonel and not the general. However, Johnson was Gesslin’s reporting officer. It would be up to Johnson to make Harrison aware of the information.

“Riders coming, sir.”

Gesslin and Jonah stood up from where they’d been resting. Pickets had been deployed so there was little concern of a surprise attack. The British soldiers had been enamored with Moses. The group had kept a conversation going while they waited on Hicks to return with orders or for the others to catch up. Standing, Jonah was able to make out General Harrison and Commodore Perry riding in the lead of Colonel Johnson’s mounted rifles. This was a relief to Jonah, though he couldn’t have explained why other than it was the way it should be. Johnson had proved a good soldier and hadn’t let politics sway his decision.

As the group rode up, Jonah heard the general speaking to Hampton, “As soon as you get a good feel, Captain, let me know.”

The man saluted and then dismounted, walked over to Gesslin, and the two talked in a low voice.

“Mr. Lee, I see you’re feeling fit today.”

“Yes sir. I had a good night’s sleep.”

“As you should,” the general replied.

Damn,
Jonah thought.
Does the old boy know about the wine?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

C
aptain Hampton talked with
each of the men, alone and then as a group. After the better part of an hour, he reported to the general he felt the men were truthful and that there was a good chance of capturing a significant amount of arms and men if they moved quickly. That meant the mounted rifles, as the slower infantry could never cover the distance before the sun went down.

“Ahem!” General Harrison and the other officers looked toward Jonah.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, you wish to add to the discussion?”

“Yes sir, if I may. The British at McGregors Creek have no idea when or even if we are coming. If we arrive in force after dark, it will be too late to adequately reconnoiter the area. Not only that, but an army bedding down for the night will alarm the British, who will destroy the supplies before we even get close.” Jonah could see he held the officer’s attention and some were even nodding in agreement.

“I recommend that you send out a forward party, General. Mounted riders can be there long before the sun sets. They can scout out the area and draw out a map of sorts. We can send a rider back with a dispatch detailing the layout.”

“I see,” the general muttered. “And I suppose you will want to be a part of the scouting party?”

Technically, the general couldn’t prevent him from riding off. Trying to be diplomatic, Jonah replied, “With your permission, sir. I was thinking it might be like our days with General Wayne.” This brought a smile to Harrison’s face as Jonah hoped it would.

“Well, be off with you then; but what about the infantry? Have you forgotten about them?”

“No sir. I would rest them here about. Let them eat and rest and then move them out about midnight. That way, with a forced march, they would be close at dawn. They could rest a bit and still be ready to attack at first light. That is, if everything goes to plan.”

“That damnable ‘if’,” Commodore Perry exclaimed. “There’s always that.”

“Yes, I like your plan to a point,” Harrison said. “Colonel Johnson, pick your best men for scouts. We’ll give the scouts a two hour head start. Then the mounted rifles will move out. As soon as you sight this McGregors Creek, you send a rider back to let the colonel know when he’s close. That way, should you run into trouble, a suitable force will be close by to deal with it.”

Jonah knew the change to his recommendation was so Harrison could say it was his plan of attack. It really didn’t matter much, except now the mounted rifles as a group would have a cold camp that night. With the land open as this one was, a candle could be seen for miles.

As Jonah was mounting his horse, Gesslin rode up and said, “Thanks, friend.” The words stung until Jonah saw Gesslin was smiling.

“You’re most welcome,” Jonah quipped. As he mounted, he said, “Ah… think of the glory. Captain Clay Gesslin, hero of McGregors Creek. He single-handedly took on the entire British garrison… and whipped them good.”

“Gesslin for congress.” This last was from Hampton, who hearing Jonah’s tirade joined in. Gesslin’s reply was not very complimentary.

“So you’re riding with us?’ Jonah asked and then realized it was a dumb question. Why else would Hampton be mounted if he wasn’t to be part of the scouting party?

Taking a deep breath, Hampton exhaled and replied, “Someone who can draw a fair map and knows his letters has to attend you uncivilized souls.”

“I see,” Jonah said, then winking at Gesslin, he called to Moses. “You took any scalps lately, old friend?”

Having heard the good-natured bickering, Moses replied, “No, I ain’t, but I’m itchin’.”

“Well, it will be dark soon,” Jonah said. “Lots of bad things happen in the dark.”

Hampton swallowed hard and then turned in his saddle and spoke, “Moses, my old friend, would you care to ride along with me? Would you like some tobacco? I may have another bottle of wine tucked away if you’d care for a libation.”

Looking back, Jonah said, “Moses can be had, James, but he ain’t cheap. Keep talking though, likelihood is you’ll keep your hair.”

McGregors Creek turned out to be a tributary for the Thames River. The forward scouting party closed with it within three hours of leaving the main body of the mounted rifles. Gesslin sent a rider back a ways to wait on Colonel Johnson and then deployed his men to reconnoiter the area. The men moved off in twos with only their tomahawk and knives for weapons.

“I don’t want some fool’s gun going off,” Gesslin had explained. “These men are seasoned backwoodsmen. They could kill you in your sleep and you wouldn’t even know you were dead.”

Still, it was a precaution and the men were professional enough not to argue. It was an hour after dark before all the scouting parties returned with a detailed report of what they had seen including men, arms, store-houses, and civilians.

“There’s a bridge right here,” one of the scouts was saying, pointing to a place on Hampton’s map. “If we can take that, it’ll be a lot easier getting across the creek. There is a village of sorts once you are past the creek.”

“That’s Chatham,” Hampton said.

“Well, they’s lots of folks about and even some this side of the creek.”

When it was Jonah and Moses’ turn to report, Jonah pointed to a spot on the map. “What’s this area here?” he asked, knowing it was a junction of sorts.

“That’s where a creek combines with the Thames River. Why do you ask?”

“There’s a couple of keelboats or barges right there. I don’t know what’s loaded on them, but it must be important, as they are well-guarded. There was even a carriage pulled up next to one.”

“Damn sir,” Hampton cursed, all excited. “General Proctor travels in a carriage frequently. I’ll bet it was him or his family.”

“We didn’t see no women or children,” Moses volunteered and then added, “No Redcoat general either.”

“Well, if there’s a carriage, then he’s close about,” Hampton replied, refusing to relent. “If he’s not, that’s his belongings. I’d sure like to get aboard that boat. From the sound of these boys indicating the rest of the scouts, the rest of the places have a few soldiers here and there. But this place has a plenty. They are thicker than fleas on a hound’s butt. I’d wait until tomorrow and have a bunch of soldiers there waiting for the attack. Maybe attack there first off.”

“I dunno,” the one scout replied. “Them boats might be important but taking that bridge would sure make it a lot easier .., specially for the infantry.”

“I agree,” Jonah said. “However, there’s no reason the attack can’t be from several directions at once.”

I agree,” Gesslin added. “I think we need to ride back and talk to the colonel first hand. There’s too much to put into a dispatch.”

“Clay,” Hampton called to his friend. ‘How about if I go and take…”

“Moore’s my name, sir, Arthur Moore.

“Yes, thank you. What if Moore and I ride back and talk with the colonel. Would that be satisfactory with you?”

“Yes, I think a verbal report would be much better,” Gesslin replied. Then he added, “Even if the man writing the report is a man of letters.”

“You devil,” Hampton hissed. “Ready, Moore?”

The man nodded and the two men headed back to where the horses were being held.

“There’s nothing to do now, men. We’ve done our job. Now it’s sit back and wait,” Gesslin said to his men.

“There’s a place back yonder a ways, Captain, a deserted shack. It might be a better place to hole up. There are walls and a roof. That’ll cut down on any wind and rain since we can’t build no fire.”

“Keep the frost off, too,” Moses added.

“Is it where we can watch out for the Colonel?’

“Better than this heah place,” Hicks said. “There is a stand of trees where we can tie a rope and hide the horses.”

BOOK: War 1812
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